


A Fateful Meeting

by Grand-R Siècle (ForksAndArrows)



Series: Almost Historic [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, First Meetings, Gen, M/M, Political Speeches, Purple Prose, Secret Societies, for now, my good old friend haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 21:21:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20216458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForksAndArrows/pseuds/Grand-R%20Si%C3%A8cle
Summary: Grantaire admired, as a man of taste; he was sceptic, as a man of his time; and he was moved, as a man of his nature.





	A Fateful Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I am finally posting something!

When the Parisian doesn't fancy, or can't afford, theatre for pay, he can always drop into a badly lit café and contemplate the theatre of life, which, if somewhat more scarce in duels and Spanish beauties, is abundant in thieving street gamins and good-natured French girls serving the tables.

The Parisian in question, in this case, was a broad man named Grantaire, and the stage he hoped to enjoy was a café tucked in a mildly disreputable street, made remarkable only by the considerable crowd gathered inside. Hoping to be as entertained as the patrons seemed to be, Grantaire paid for a bottle of discreet red and took a vantage seat.

Standing behind a table with a pamphlet in his hand, was a man. He did not seem to have been talking long, by the structure of his discourse, only then wrapping up his thesis. He spoke with compelling conviction, leaning slightly forward as though to reach directly into the minds of his audience to rearrange their thoughts.

The terms of the speech were deceptively general, but full of dangerous allusions. Just as the fathers of the Revolution had been fatefully nourished by Roman example, he seemed to wish to fan to life the fire of '89 and inspire with its fumes everyone in the café. He spoke of justice, freedom, virtue -- daring words, those, especially with that little silence after that seemed to conclude '_Républicaines_!' 

What a terrible and sublime vision, this young Cicero who resuscitated fossilized words, who made them swift and gleaming like wild new-born things - who schooled them into a discourse that rang like the horns of doom. Grantaire admired, as a man of taste; he was sceptic, as a man of his time; and he was moved, as a man of his nature.

There was a sweet roundness in the lips of this St. Michael triumphant, an open frankness in the gaze of this marble Antinous. As he paused and touched the tips of his fingers to his forehead, just so, as he tugged on the cuffs of his shirt, there were glimpses of the man underneath the orator, and of the boy underneath the man, and this was Grantaire's perdition.

The speech winded down rapidly, and by the time the pamphlets had been distributed among the audience, the speaker had grabbed his own and was hastily making his way out -- a wise decision, probably, given the subject matter of his oratory.

Wadding among the crowd Grantaire grew close and waited patiently for the chance of an introduction, where he could speak of a fictional affinity to the cause of freedom and political reform and pretend that all his happiness and his soul, ugly and contorted as it was, had not been poured into the unwitting hands of this apostle of progress. Such a chance, however, did not come. Instead he was accosted by a bulky, grinning gentleman:

\- Sir, if I may, a word.

\- I have no doubt you may whatever you will, my formidable fellow! But if you will do me a kindness, and be a friend, rather than a captor, spare me time enough to approach that well-spoken Brutus for a moment...

The man followed his gaze and Grantaire thought he looked almost too understanding.

\- I am afraid it might be too late for that now, but if you all you want is to discuss what has been said, here's my hand, and my ear, and my good will too. 

Grantaire, resigned to having lost track of Ganymede decided he might as well pass his time with Heracles.

As he shook the stranger's hand and gave his name, Grantaire looked at his features a second time. 

\- Don't I know you? Haven't I seen you before?

The man laughed.

\- I am Bahorel. I think we have sparred the same man more than once, but sadly never each other.

With this prompt Grantaire recalled what he was surprised to have forgotten: in the boxing matches he was used to attending he had seen this mountain of a man take down his opponents with as much ease as good humour.

\- I am as sad as a goose who survived Christmas.

Bahorel laughed again; it seemed to be his natural state.

\- We should remedy that soon. It was my intention to persuade you to a boxing match when I recognized you, but now that I know you are interested in what we heard today... Tell me, are you that Grantaire that Joly and Lesgle are always going on about?

\- They talk about me? All bad things I'm sure...

\- On the contrary, they speak of you as of a brother.

\- They are lucky that I am not. If I were, I'm afraid I would have squandered our inheritance long ago. But I should not be ungrateful! How did you make their acquaintance?

\- Ah, they are part of a nice little group of students. We meet now and then to talk of all things human.

\- Well, these alleged brothers of mine have kept me away from a merry pastime then! And knowing how I love to talk too...!

Bahorel seemed to hesitate, storm clouds on his brow for a few seconds before he could take a decision.

\- I know Joly and Bossuet had a mind to extend an invitation, but I will beat them to the pleasure. You would be welcome to join us, if you think you can find amusement in our little gathering. After all, a man with a left hook such as yours can only be a welcome addition to our club!

\- What, is it a gymnasium?

Bahorel gave a boisterous laugh.

\- Why yes, of sorts, but more in the manner of the Athenians than the Spartans; we are all very concerned with the education of the masses.

\- It is unfortunate that you hit upon the one field where you'll find me a Spartan through and through. I will throw a punch, or most likely get hit by one, any day my friend, but I tell you plainly because I like you, I am not one to get tangled in matters of philosophy.

The gentle reader may freely decide whether there was any truth in this statement.

\- And yet, you were interested in the speech. - Grantaire made an assenting gesture - Much of our time is dedicated to the general betterment of France. You know, how to improve instruction and... - Bahorel gave Grantaire a studying and meaningful look - good morals.

Any man with Grantaire's claim to worldliness could have made an educated guess as to the kind of business Bahorel was into --the kind of business Joly and Bossuet were into, apparently. And the angel of revolution, of course. Him too.

After the turmoil in July, the new king had spent the summer deteething the Republicans at Hôtel de la Ville, and meanwhile hunger and misery were his regents in the streets of Paris. The most bitter critics said Louis Philippe, even 'surrounded by institutions of the people' had turned out to be as great a disappointment to the French as another Louis had been to their grandfathers.

It was only natural, Grantaire thought, that there would be dissenters, agitators, conspirators -- ultimately, traitors -- scattered around Paris. It's not like he hadn't known Joly and Bossuet's political leanings.

That they would have thought to invite him made him doubt that they knew his, which where none whatsoever. Grantaire was a man who took great care not to believe in anything, except love and liberty.

And yet, in this instance, both principles conspired to drag him into this mysterious group that Bahorel spoke of: love of his friends would make Grantaire join them (and if the winged rascal was saying something else too, he was shushed) and liberty made him distantly sympathetic to misfits and rabble-rousers.

Grantaire knew he was being offered a rare opportunity. Such associations required discretion, and he had no doubt that he would leave the conversation without a time or place of meeting; Bahorel would confirm that he was suitable with Joly and Bossuet first -- for a wild moment Grantaire imagined they might not vouch for him at all, but then remembered that there was an excellent new winery in Saint-Bernard and consoled himself.

-I admire your goals like a toad admires the stars, my friend; I am not sure how much of an example I can set for good morals: the few I have are mediocre at best; - said Grantaire - but I can promise if suitably irrigated by good Bordeaux, my conversation flourishes into rhyming games!

Bahorel gave a good-natrued chuckle, but still waited.

-I will come to your meetings, if you'll have me, if nothing else for the excellent company. Perhaps I can be part of those masses you wish to lift out of ignorance.

At this Bahorel gave him a hearty pat on the back with a familiarity that would have been out of place in anyone with less striking a waistcoat.

\- We'll make a scholar of you yet! You'll be one of us in no time. I'll be in touch, my good man!

His recruitment concluded, Bahorel's considerable mass vanished out the door remarkably quickly. Grantaire was left rather alone, but to his own surprise softly smiling. If his mind misgave some consequence to this encounter, yet hanging in the stars, he pushed the thought aside, and instead reflected on the pleasures of a well-delivered speech all the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> Really hope you liked it! There might be more coming. And there might be a Modern AU that has nothing whatsoever to with this (but both things are still in the works)
> 
> This is not too heavy in intertextuality (or research ooops) by Canon-Era-fic standards, but there is one (quasi) pun that is cross-language!
> 
> If you leave a comment and/or kudos and/or come holler atme on tumblr (at grand-r-siecle) you will literally make my day and win my heart, becuase feedback and encouragement are the carrot to my writing donkey!


End file.
